


Undecided

by ephemeraltoxic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Drabble, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Sex, Soft Draco Malfoy, blowjob, praise!kink, praising, soft!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29627055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeraltoxic/pseuds/ephemeraltoxic
Summary: Hermione and Draco are the best of friends after being acquainted in 8th year. What happens when Draco asks Hermione what she smells in her amortentia?
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione awoke in the Slytherin common at half past midnight, the sound of the crackling of the fire greeting her like a warm kiss. There was a red coloured comforter sloppily thrown across her body in an attempt to shield her from the harsh autumn night. When Hermione pushed the comforter away, it dawned upon her that she was still wearing her school robes - her tie had loosened and her skirt was all bunched up. Hermione supposed she had passed out after Slughorn’s practical potions exam.She groaned from exhaustion and stretched her arms to the sky.

“About time you woke up - almost thought you were dead for a second there,” Hermione heard someone say from the opposite side of the room. Draco was situated on the leather couch, curled up against a black hard-cover book; his eyes intently scanning over the words.  
“How long was I knocked out?” Hermione asked groggily, leaning back against the couch, wrapping myself deeper into the comforter.

“About 5 hours,” he replied nonchalantly, flipping to the next page. Hermione could see that his blonde fringe was irritating his eyes, but he seemed so at peace that Hermione didn’t have the heart to comment about it. “Thought you might have gotten cold - so I lit up a fire and asked the House elves to fetch something warm to cover you.” He chuckled. “Didn’t think they would pick such an obnoxious colour. It’s ghastly.”

“Why aren’t you in bed yet?” Hermione inquired, walking a few steps towards him. The leather sofa he was nuzzled in looked far more comfortable than the one Hermione was resting atop for the last few hours. Hermione motioned for him to scoot and he moved into the sofa, sticking his tongue out in annoyance.

“Was just doing a little light reading.” he hummed before closing his book, putting his Slytherin themed bookmark between the pages. He looked at her inquisitively before asking. “I wanted to know if you could teach me something.”

“That’s pretty random,” Hermione yawned, leaning against his shoulder. Initially he stiffened at the close contact but relaxed as soon as Hermione closed her eyes. “But sure. What do you want to know?”

Draco straightened his posture, setting his book down on the coffee table next to him; a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

\--

“Hold me! Hold me!” bellowed Draco as the skateboard lunged forward on the floors of the castle grounds. Hermione grabbed Draco by his waist as he placed his hands on her shoulders. He was laughing, hair tousling in the wind. It seemed as though he was having a little too much fun skating and wreaking havoc on the grounds. “I can’t seem to balance on this damned thing!”

  
“That’s because it’s your first try, Draco.” Hermione said, grinning, firmly placing her hands on his waist once more to give him more balance. The whole situation was out of place. It was usually Draco who would volunteer to be the teacher, teasing her about not knowing how to do something as Hermione attempted to quip back. Draco was known to be suave and composed around his female counterparts. However today, Draco was an absolute herss but he was filled with endless laughter.

He held onto her shoulders for the sixth time that night before finally being able to skate on his own without fear. “Woo!” He screamed wholeheartedly at the top of his lungs as the wheels scraped the concrete harshly, his thoughts never crossing over the fact that we were outside way past curfew.

Hermione swatted his arm, using her hands to gesture him to be silent. “Be quiet or Filch is going to find us!”

“Don’t suck the fun out of things,” Draco teased, hopping off the skateboard and placing his foot on the edge of it. “Besides, we could cast a Silencing Charm on him and call it a night.”

“You wouldn’t.” Hermione deadpanned.

“I may or may not have recalled having done that before,,” He said, covering his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter. “Kidding! Besides, even if I did, it was completely harmless Hermione, I promise!” He said as he shook her arm to prevent her from sulking. He slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close, ruffling her hair. “Look up,” Draco instructed.

Hermione huffed, crossing her arms but did so anyway. The Hogwarts skyline had always been breathtaking but in the cold autumn weather with the ruffling yellow and green leaves that decorated the castle; the twinkling stars littering the sky and underneath the dim moonlight, it was beyond astonishing.

No words were exchanged between them, but somehow they both knew that each person felt immensely liberated to be able to do something as spontaneous as this - to be able to breathe in the midnight air and forget about the scars of our past. To not reminisce about the war and the people they hurt and abandoned; to not ponder on lost loved ones. Most of the time, Draco and Hermione had always buried our heads in our books, headed to the library or walked together to lunch. They were accustomed to a fixed routine, so that they wouldn’t have tiher to fill their heads with dreaded thoughts.

Draco let out a low laugh as he grabbed her right hand and gently caressed her palm. Hermione swatted his hand and turned to face him, grinning from ear to ear. “Why the hell are you being gross?”

He doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach because he postulated a variety of potential reactions from her in his head but he certainly had not expected a reaction like that. “Shit! You didn’t have to ruin the moment!”

Hermione was about to chase him down before Hermione heard staccato-like footsteps approaching the castle doors where we were situated. The castle doors opened widely, a gust of wind headed towards both Draco and her direction. “Students out of bed!” Filch screamed, holding a torch in his right hand.

“Fuck,” Draco said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to crouch behind one of the benches nearby.

“I told you you were being too loud!” Draco hissed as Hermione pinched his side. He rubbed the side of his waist and pouted.

“Look, there’s a way around the back to get into the castle.” Hermione tugged his arm as we rushed through the castle walls.

“Students in the corridor!” Filch was catching onto us and when he got too close, Hermione muffled under her breath a quick “ _Muffliato,”_

Draco had never looked prouder.

At around half past one in the morning, they headed down to the Hogwarts kitchens. Before we could open the door, the House Elves had already started asking us if we wanted to have hot cocoa fresh from the kettle. They were delighted to have guests and served us with some crackers and chicken stew.

“So,” Hermione took a swig of hot cocoa in her mouth, delighted with the sweet taste coating her tongue. “What the hell was that about?”

Draco was taking a bite of his cracker when he said. “To be honest, I just wanted to have some fun - I’m going to be home next week.”

“Oh,” Hermione said because she understood. It was miserable for Draco at the Malfoy manor. His parents would interrogate him about how his studies were going, what he was going to do in the future - would he be managing the estates that they owned; who his potential love interest might be to continue the Malfoy bloodline. They never appreciated his unweathering passion for Alchemy, his fascination in dark artifacts and his friendship with her, a muggle-born. “Didn’t think you’d fancy skateboarding.” Hermione punched his arm lightly, trying to lighten up the mood.  
Draco set his mug down. He grabbed something from the right pocket of his dress robes and pulled out a vial of liquid.

When he pulled the cork open, Hermione knew exactly what it was - the potion was known for its distinctive mother of pearl sheen and the steam rose from the vial in spirals.

“Why do you have that?” her eyes were drawn to the potion instantly. The smell was irresistible, Hermione couldn’t help but move a little closer to catch a better whiff of it. “We had to give this vial back to Professor Slughorn after class. He’s going to kill you if he finds out you nicked it from his office!”

“I highly doubt that,” Draco said confidently, holding the vial higher in the air, examining its contents. “This could very well be the physical manifestation of love,”

“Infatuation,” Hermione corrected.

“Which brings us to the subject matter at hand,” Draco bit his bottom lip, looking the most hesitant he ever did that night. “I wanted to confirm something.”

Her heart pummeled in her chest. The noise in the background was beginning to disappear — Hermione couldn’t hear anything or see anyone except for the person who was right in front of her.  
“What do you smell?”

Hermione swallowed the bile rising in her throat, clenching her fingers together. Hermione stood up almost instantly. Draco’s eyes peered into mine as he grabbed her wrist. “Woah, where are you headed?”

“Back to the dorms, Draco. It’s late.”

“No,” he insisted, holding a finger grip on her wrist. “We’re talking about this.”

Hermione yanked his hand off with force and stumbled two steps back. One of the House Elves backed away from where the two of us were standing, sensing the tension in the room starting to build up.

“I sensed that something was up with you the second that you refused to tell the class what you could smell in this. You practically combusted when Slughorn asked.”

“It’s personal!” Hermione felt enraged. Who exactly did he think he was trying to demand answers from her? Frankly, why the class was interested to know was beyond her - Hermione understood that it was for academic reasons but it was personal, and the scents that flooded her nose were all too recognisable—not just to her, but the entire 7th year. “Yeah, Hermione, I figured.”  
“What do you smell, then?” Hermione retorted.

“I asked you first,” Draco stated, taking a few steps closer.

“Well fuck you, I’m not answering!” Hermione said, making an attempt to run out of the kitchens. As Hermione spun, she accidentally knocked over some of the chicken stew but she was too awestruck to care. Instead, Hermione focused on hastening her strides, heading towards the Gryffindor tower. Draco apologised to the House elves, his face red beat with embarrassment as he cast a spell to clean up the spilled contents.

Before Hermione could utter the password to the Common Room, Draco pulled her aside and pushed her against the wall, placing his palm on her mouth. The scream was muffled into his hand.

“Stop screaming! Seriously, Filch is around the corner,” his eyes wandered beyond the walls, observing the surroundings. When Filch was out of sight, he let out a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall.

Hermione exhaled, tears welling in her eyes because it was apparent from his demeanour that he knew how he made her feel. Hermione didn’t realise it until now but he had been hyper aware of hypersensitivities lately. He has been nothing short but kind and had even tried flirting with her on multiple occasions. Yet somehow deep down Hermione knew he was never going to be serious with her.

A fourth year paled as soon as the portrait opened. “Trying to sneak out?” Draco teased, eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t realise anyone was patrolling the halls this late —“ the boy stuttered and stammered. He could sense the tension. “I’ll just — go.” He said, eyes gazing on Draco and Hermione before sauntering back in, rubbing the back of his neck.

Draco bit his lip before turning to her once more. “Look,” he started. “I’m not going in there until you tell her what’s been up with you.”

“Nothing’s up.” Hermione denied almost immediately, crossing her arms.

“Hermione, I don’t buy it.” He said as a matter of factly. “There must be something that’s bothering you to the point where you sprint off like that.”

“Cmon Granger, we've got to have this out,” He placed his arms on both sides of body, practically caging her to the wall. “I’m not going to let you leave until you tell her now — what attracts you.”

“And why the fuck not?”

“Because guess what — it’s your perfume I’m sherlling in this fucking vial!” Draco finally admitted, frustratingly running his hands through his hair.

“Remember that day where you rushed to the Common room wanting to show her your Lancome perfume that cost you 50 pounds saying you’d sue the company if the scent didn’t last until your grave — Hermione, I smell that,”

“You’re lying,” Hermione said, pushing him away. “Quit _fucking_ around!”

“And you know what else?” Draco was unfazed. “I smell your stupid cat’s flea spray that you put on it’s neck every week and the laundry detergent on your robes..” He turned away, “It is very specific and very intoxicating.”

Hermione didn’t understand any of the words he was saying - it felt as though this was a confession of sorts. But from what he said next, it didn’t seem as though he knew what he was saying either.

“What does this mean?” Draco questioned her, looking completely and utterly frustrated as though he was searching for answers he would never find. He pulled the cork out from the vial, took in another whiff and uttered. “Fuck,” he cussed “It still smells the same— what’s this supposed to mean?”

“Why are you asking her this, Draco?” Hermione scoffed. “Aren’t you supposed to be the top of our class in Potions— you _know_ the answer.”

Hermione knew the answer too — all too well. Amortentia is a potion that smells different to every individual. It is supposed to cater to individual preferences of what they believe is attractive. From the looks of it, it was as though Draco was attracted to her. He just couldn’t find the words to articulate it. SomehowHermione felt as though it was because he was ashamed of what it entailed to have feelings for her.

He finally released her and pushed himself off. He looked at her with earnest eyes; begging. “ _Please_ — just tell me Granger, I can’t get this out of my head.”  
Hermione bit her lip before hesitantly saying.

“ _You.”_ It was the one word Hermione was afraid to say this whole night. “I smell oak trees, the grass on the quidditch pitch and your obnoxious perfume, Draco.”

He licked his lips, eyes darting on the dusty floors beneath us. He couldn’t find the proper words to articulate how this felt.

“But you hate me,”

Hermione didn’t expect to hear those words escape his mouth. For all the adventures they had been having and for all the time they spent together, it was frankly odd for him to come to such a conclusion.

  
“Why would you think that — _why_ would I be sneaking out in the middle of the night to teach you how to skateboard if i,” Hermione paused. “hated you.”

“Because I hate me,” draco said, eyes full of yearning

Draco was conflicted — it was difficult for him over the years to develop love towards himself after all the terrible this he had done, after siding with the wrong people in the war, after causing pain, inflicting torture; he couldn’t just pretend that he had forgiven himself. He still hadn’t moved on.

Hermione hadn’t moved on either. There were many sleepless nights — nights of tossing and turning, paranoia, screaming and relentlessness. Nights where Hermione would run to the prefect's bathroom with Draco running after her. Cold, lonely nights of standing under the shower as he waited outside, hearing her cries.

They hadn’t moved on.

Hermione couldn’t seem to look away from his piercing eyes, her gaze travelling from his lashes to the inner corners of his eyes and finally at an abyss of the beautiful storm that was coloured grey. His gaze was fixated on her lips. His own parted slightly as he noticed how close our bodies were.

Hermione couldn’t help how she felt at the moment. Her body was numb and yet she couldn’t look away. Draco’s eyes were so entrancing. Hermione was conflicted about kissing him — the thought merely slipping her mind. However, her body beat her to it and she unconsciously pulled his face close to hers and soon she was met with soft lips.

Hermione heard a small gasp and saw his eyes widening as Hermione closed the gap between them. Not long after however Hermione felt lips kissing mine in return and a hand gently encircling her waist. Their lips moved at a slow pace — almost too hesitant about what they were doing.

A few moments after, Hermione broke contact from Draco and opened her eyes. Hermione felt her knees buckle beneath her. However with one swift motion, Draco caught her by her arm.“So you don’t hate me,” His breath was dancing on the edge of her lips.

“No.” Hermione shook her head. It took a little time for her to catch her breath.

However, Hermione was quick enough not to miss the colourful sound of Draco’s giggle. He covered his mouth with his palm and took a few steps back, his face flushed with what Hermione could only guess was pure and utter embarrassment.

“Sorry!” His voice was a little more high pitched than he would like to admit. “I just didn't expect that to happen. You didn’t even ask me!”

“God, I’m sorry!” Hermione said, her eyes widening. “I should have asked for your consent — it’s just we were in a compromising situation and Hermione didn’t think twice about it—“

 _“Were we?”_ Draco asked with one of his eyebrows raised. "In a compromising situation? " 

"Shut up," Hermione quipped back. 

From the corner of her eye, Hermione could see the portrait of Horace Slughorn turning his eyes away from the scene.

“So now what?” Draco huffed. “What — are we supposed to be dating or something?”

“I have no idea,” Hermione honestly admitted. Hermione had no idea how to progress from this situation. The only thing Hermione could process was the fact that he had feelings for her and the feelings were reciprocated.

“We could still be friends.” Hermione suggested, shrugging her shoulders. Hermione uttered the password to the portrait and it slung open within seconds. The Common room was filled with green light, reflecting the Black lake. The only sound Hermione could hear was the crackling of the fire and the hushed whispers of Draco’s friends.

“Friends don't kiss each other.” Draco whispered in her ear as we continued walking, pressing his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “There’s something between us.”

“I’m aware.” Hermione voiced out, her voice almost cracking.

“Good.” He concluded. “Well then that settles it, then. We just won’t date anyone until we decide what we are — so that the other person doesn’t have to feel sad. We should set a date to decide that we’re not explicitly exclusive, if it ever cohers to it.” He said triumphantly.

“But isn’t that just dating exclusively.” l pointed out. “Don’t people decide that they want to be exclusive only after getting to know someone. We’re still undecided, Draco.”

“But what if I hate seeing you flirt with other boys in our year? Are you telling her what happened back there here meant nothing?”

“I never said that.”

“So then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I want to remain undecided — until I’ve had enough time to think about it.”

“Fine,” Draco said as he raised his arms in defeat. “We’ll just remain undecided. God knows how indecisive you are.” He patted his hands on his robes, looking slightly more satisfied with her answer. He leaned against the banister of the staircase leading up to the dormitories. He ushered her with his hands to head upstairs.

As Hermione walked back to her room that night, her mind couldn’t resist imagining what it would be like to run her hand through Draco’s hair as he laid on her lap.

“Yeah,” Hermione trailed. “Undecided.”


	2. Early Christmas

Hermione screamed into her pillow as loud as she could. The events that transpired moments before still burning at the back of her mind with a vicious ferocity. She couldn’t help but feel as though what had happened was a dream.

Draco laid in bed that night with a bolster tucked between his legs, his mind blanking out like a black screen. It didn’t occur to him how much he could ever like someone that much before and how intoxicating it could feel. He tried to sleep on his right side, trying to find whatever means he could to be comfortable. Nevertheless, it was to no avail.

“Fuck it,” He quickly hopped off his bed, tip-toeing across the room to open the door, heading to the common area. He started writing down everything he could remember about the previous event that took place — and collected happy memories from his mind that he recalled in detail on a piece of parchment lying nearby. Satisfied with his scribbling, he folded the piece of parchment and placed it in the breast pocket of his pajamas.

Hermione ended up taking a warm bath that night to calm her nerves. When Hermione walked into the Slytherin common room at half past four in the morning towel drying her hair and yawning, she noticed that someone else was also present.

Leaning against the sofa, but seated on the floor was Draco, clad in his silk pyjamas; his hand on his chin, blonde hair in disarray, sipping on what appeared to be a cup of coffee.

“Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Fucking hell,” Draco gasped, seconds away from spilling the coffee in his hand and turned towards her. “You scared me,” 

Hermione supposed she should have cleared her throat before approaching him. However, seeing his reaction left her with an amused smirk planted on the corner of her lips.

“Why are you up so late?” Hermione took a seat next to him and grabbed the book he was reading. “I couldn’t sleep,” he replied and shrugged his shoulders.

"How'd you get into the Slytherin common room?" Draco asked, twirling his wand between his fingers. 

"Blaise gave me the password," Hermione replied nonchalantly and ruffling Draco's hair. He laughed in response. 

She squatted on the floor for a second to observe what he was doing. “That's a rather odd thing for you to have - This is a _Muggle_ storybook.” Hermione observed.

“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I got it as a present from one of my friends in Bulgaria. It’s fiction, or so he tells me. It’s funny how they perceive magic in the muggle world — abracadabra is apparently quite a popular spell there.” He cleared his throat “quite similar to a spell we know; except here it's an unforgivable..”

Hermione read the synopsis of the story at the back of the cover. When she was satisfied Hermione handed the book back to him. “I’m thirsty,” Hermione commented before standing up and heading towards one of the coffee machines on the common room table. “Do you want anything?” 

Draco gulped, the words lodged in his throat before he croaked out. “Your hair is a mess.”

Hermione was a little taken aback by his remark. She waited for the coffee machine to start brewing. She touched her hair with her fingers, a little too hyper aware of his eyes trailing over the curves of her body. Hermione shook away her thoughts.. “Yes — _and_?”

“Come here,” Draco beckoned, now situated atop the sofa. He patted the spot next to him, scooting a little to give her some room. Hermione wondered what he was up to. 

“Yeah, in a minute,” Hermione replied as Hermione stood over the coffee maker, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. After pouring in the caffeinated drink into a mug, Hermione approached him and placed her coffee mug on a coaster and sat near him. 

He looked at her, blinking a couple of times before sighing. “What?” Hermione asked, frankly a little annoyed.

With an inaudible incantation, the book that he was previously reading transfigured into an ebony coloured hair brush with emerald jewels embroidered around the corners. 

“If you don’t brush those tangles out of your hair, it's going to get matted,” he scoffed and tugged on the sleeves of her pajamas, motioning her to sit down. Hermione almost fell on his lap.

Hermione was surprised at how gentle his touch was. He was stroking her hair. It came as a surprise that never once did Hermione feel a tinge of pain as he held onto the roots of her hair and brushed out her split ends. His touch was gentle and clearly practiced. There was a certain level of concentration he was possessing as he brushed along the hair that cascaded down her shoulders. Draco clucked his tongue, occasionally sticking his tongue out. It felt as though he was tickling her spine as he brushed her arm.

“And — there.” He finished. His tongue stuck out on the corner of his left lip. He placed the black hairbrush on the coffee table, satisfied with his work.

He was about to transfigure the brush back into his book before Hermione raised her hand to stop him. “Wait -- I want to take a look at it,” 

“Okay,” He crossed his legs and leaned back. Hermione took the brush in her hand, admiring how beautiful and immaculate the emerald jewels were, brushing them with the pads of her fingers. Hermione turned to him, putting the brush back on the table. “Did you transfigure this from memory?”

“Yeah - mother used to brush her hair with this,” He levitated the brush in the air before it fell swiftly in the palm of his hand. He brushed his hair back and cast a spell to make his hair stay quaffed in place.

Hermione snorted a little because he looked as obnoxious as he did in his second year. He took notice and immediately undid his hair with a spell. The incantation resulted in his silky blonde hair cascading down his forehead, his fringe covering his eyes

When Hermione sat down once more, collecting her mug and sipping on her coffee again, he stooped down and put his arm underneath the sofa. It seemed as though he was trying to collect something. When he resurfaced, a little smile was etched on the corners of his lips. Dangling in his hand was a little a black box with a red little red bow neatly tied to secure the present in place. He held it in his hand firmly and spoke. “I got these for you. Winter’s coming soon.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to the left. Draco was infamous for pulling pranks with his friends. Hermione was a little worried that he was pulling her leg. “I swear to god if something pops out of it, I’m having your head,”

“It’s harmless Hermione, I swear,”

"Fine,” Hermione surrendered and snatched the box from his hand. Hermione shook the contents inside. No noise escaped from it, which made her grow even more curious. 

Hermione opened the box and what lay inside made her expression soften. It was a pair of green and grey fuzzy socks.

It was a _gift._

“Draco,” Hermione couldn’t help but say as Hermione placed one of her hands on his lap. “You shouldn’t have,” 

“I can take them back,” he said playfully and grabbed the socks from her hand. Hermione swatted his wrist and held the item lovingly to her chest.

“It’s lovely,” Hermione said in awe. “Thank you.”

“It better be — I’m not really good with presents but uhm, that’s your Christmas gift,” Draco said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. Hermione's eyes couldn't help but stare at his flexing biceps. 

“But it’s so early for you to give me a Christmas gift,” She uttered under her breath, fingers still rubbing against the soft fuzzy material. 

"I know,” he sighed. “It’s just that I’m always back home during Christmas. And I never got you anything before, so, yeah.”

He was a little nervous, he was practically slurring as he spoke. When Hermione tried to say something, he immediately stopped her. “ _No_ — Hermione, I know what you’re about to say,” 

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” Hermione argued. 

“Yeah but you’re going to say that this is stupid and that we shouldn’t give each other silly gifts like lovesick teenage kids with puppy eyes but I just want to because — well because it’s _fun,_ ” he harrumphed. 

“And contrary to popular belief, I’ve always liked giving presents to others but people just always seem to think I’m selfish so in the end I never did,”

“Draco-“ Hermione tried to cut in. 

“But frankly speaking, Hermione, I don’t care and I like you, okay — so there, just take it. _Christ.”_ He began to pace around the room, almost as if he was trying to avoid her. Hermione blinked at him a couple of tihers, a little guffawed at the scene. Once Hermione realised that _oh -_ so this was what it was like to see Draco Malfoy flustered, Hermione came to the conclusion that this was a fantastic form of amusement.

Hermione got up from the ground and raced into his arms. Hermione swung her arms around his neck and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re _absolutely_ adorable, y’know?” Draco stood there, looking petrified as Hermione backed away from him. 

“I’ll wear this to class. I’ll see you, then?” Hermione said as Hermione headed back to her room to get dressed for school. Had Hermione walked a little faster, Hermione could have almost missed the squeal that escaped his lips. 


	3. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little smut here so. Also please comment if you found it a fun story!

Christmas morning had always been simple yet delightful. Hermione and her family had a routine of making Christmas theherd cupcakes in the morning and spent the rest of the afternoon snuggled in blankets, drinking hot cocoa and binge watching Christmas theherd movies. However, this tiher round, the routine had been unexpectedly broken.

Hermione had moved out from her parents' place before beginning her 7th year. She never wanted to. However, her parents had insisted that she did it in order to give them some privacy. It was a little frustrating and they probably regretted it when Hermione rang to inform them that she wouldn’t be able to fly back to their place to celebrate because of an inevitable snow storm.

Christmas alone was depressing and frankly lonely. Hermione tried to halt the negative emotions She was experiencing by using magic to hang the twinkling fairy lights on the banister of the staircase. Hermione hadn’t mastered Apparating yet and she was too afraid to do it again as Hermione had splinched herself the last time she tried.

She was flipping the channels on her tv with a blank expression on herface; home alone 2 buzzing in the background. She resisted the urge to cry. 

Hermione was halfway through watching the movie when a figure emerged out of her fireplace, ash-covered and coughing. “ _ Petrificus Totalus!”  _ Hermione yelled instinctively. 

  
Her eyes widened once the realisation hit her. “ _Draco?”_

_\-----_

_“I’m so sorry! I had no idea it was you,”_ Hermione apologised profusely to Draco as she continued to wipe off the remnants of ash from his complexion. He tried pushing her hand away as he gulped down water.

“It’s okay — I probably should have sent an owl in advance,” he justified and stood up. “Nice place you have here,” 

“Thanks,” she replied sheepishly. It was odd of a comment to make considering the fact that her place was hardly furnished.

He walked around the common area, examining her lumpy couch and the decaying flowery wallpaper. The only redeeming thing about this place was that there was a crystal chandelier in the dining room, a delicate piece that the previous owners of the place didn’t bother to take with them. 

“How did you know where I live?” Hermione nonchalantly asked. He cleared his throat, digging his hands in the pocket of his denim jeans. 

“I may or may not have gone through your file in the Ministry before,”

“You _what?”_ Hermione hit his arm. 

“Jesus — I have relatives who work in the Ministry --  _ fuck me that stings  _ —Ministry.” he finished. He raised his hands to his chest. “I was curious about you!” 

Hermione rolled her eyes and plopped herself onto the sofa. The silver frame holding the mush together creaked as soon as Hermione landed on it.

“So, pray tell — why are you alone on Christmas?” Draco inquired, a little smirk on his face.

“I can’t fly back to London. There’s a storm.” She went to one of the windows of her apartment and sighed. She should have stocked up on her supplies. She was probably going to have to multiply some of her leftovers from last night for the today's dinner. 

“So Apparate,” he said as-a-matter-of -factly. He took a bite into a red apple that was placed on her kitchen counter. 

“I can’t — I splinched myself last time I tried,” Hermione explained. There was a pregnant pause. Draco raised his eyebrows and blinked multiple times. He then burst out laughing, almost falling off the edge of the stool he was sitting on before walking towards her, grabbing her shoulders. Hermione swatted his hand away. “It’s not as easy as you think!”

“You should have told me! Hermione, I could’ve easily Apparated with you. Where do your parents live? Let’s head there now.” He grabbed her wrist and proceeded to shut his eyes. Hermione broke away from his hold.

“You can’t Apparate to a place that you’ve never been to before.” Hermione slumped against the frame. It was about to break from her weight at this point.

"Fine, we'll head to Potter's then - his family loves Christmas and they love you, so." 

Hermione took a step back, the remote controller in her hands fell on her lap. "You'd do that for me?" 

"Where do you think I was from? C'mon let's go." Draco said tugging her arm. 

“You don't have to," Hermione was hesitant. "Besides, you’re not even dressed for the occasion.” 

Draco eyed himself up and down. He was wearing a black hoodie and ripped jeans. His blonde hair was in disarray and there was a little pearl necklace strung sloppily on his neck. He didn’t seem to think he looked unpresentable. “I don’t see the problem,” 

“You look — _un_ christmasy. What the hell are you wearing, even—are you wearing a _hoodie?_ ” her eyes widened and Hermione touched the fabric of his outerwear. He put his hand on his shoulder and backed away, avoiding her grasp . Hermione ignored his odd demeanour and said. “Maybe put something red on.”

“Fuck no,” he crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t want to be caught wearing the colours of Gryffindor on _christmas_ of all occasions. What if I die looking like that? It’d be a travesty!”

Hermione grumbled. “Fine,.” Hermione mumbled an incantation and changed the colour of his hoodie to green and stitched up the ripped jeans that tore at his knees. He was satisfied as he patted his arms, chest and stomach. He headed to the mirror near the dining table and smiled, clearly happy Hermione chose his favourite colour. His eyes trailed lower down his torso and his jaw dropped in horror. 

“Hey, the ripped jeans were part of the aesthetic! I’ve been studying muggle fashion for weeks and that’s in trend these days,” 

Hermione turned to him with a puzzled expression. Had Hermione heard that right? “ _ You?  _ Studying  _ muggle _ studies? Are you sick?” 

He honestly looked offended but shook it off the second that his eyes landed on the watch on his wrist. “We better get going if we’re not to be late.” He turned to her, impatiently tapping his foot on the floor. "C'mon kitty, let's go." 

She looked at him with a puzzled expression. _"Excuse me?"_

Draco smirked, picking up the orange fluffball from her dining table that purred in his arms. Hermione blushed a bright shade of vermillion. 

\-------

They arrived at Grimmauld place at half past eleven in the morning. 

Mr Weasley was situated two seats away from Draco, his glasses pirched on the bridge of his nose, giving him a stare that could cut through Draco’s pretty complexion. Draco seemed not to have noticed — he was never the kind to read the room.

Hermione was clumsily playing with the hem of her dress. The air that filled the room was a little awkward. Harry admitted that it was a little socially unplaced to bring Draco over to the house at such an intimate family brunch and at such short notice. However, Harry tried to reason with his father in law that there would be no other way Hermione would have arrived, had it not been for Draco Apparating them there.

Harry and Draco had developed a friendship upon Harry testifying on his behalf during the Ministry trial. Draco had apologised to Harry for all of the bullying and taunting over the years meanwhile Harry thanked him for refusing to identify the three of them at Malfoy Manor. Draco finally received the handshake that he'd always wanted - he finally felt as though he was right where he should be. 

They shared the same passion for Quidditch and the both of them had similar ambitions to become Aurors. It was Harry who had thought Draco how to form a corporeal patronus (to Draco's dismay who had insisted that he would not be able to perform a Patronus because he was a dark and terrible person. Harry had just laughed and told him that if that toad umbridge could perform a corporeal patronus, he could too. It wasn't really reassuring to Draco." 

One day, when Hermione was in the library catching up on her homework, Draco had sent a Corporeal Patronus her way. It was a beautiful dragon. The first words that escaped his patronus were. "Want to hang? I want to show you my new broomstick. " and his voice reverberated across the library. Ron scoffed and said "Yeah Hermione, go take a ride on his broomstick." to which Hermione pinched his arm and it bruised for two days. 

When it was time to open the family presents, Draco excused himself to head to the bathroom. He came back 20 minutes later, holding a number of neatly wrapped gifts and a little smile.

“What’s this?” Mrs. Weasley asked enthusiastically. “Are these gifts?” 

Draco rubbed the back of his neck as his cheeks blushed red. He had Apparated back to his home and asked the house elves to fetch him the most expensive cashmere sweaters of different sizes. He hastily wrapped them with the use of magic before Apparating back to Grimmauld lace. “I haven’t spent such a lovely Christmas in a really long time — mum’s not really in the mood to celebrate this year since father isn’t around,” 

“Well let’s open them!” Ginny chimed and hastily tore the wrapping in place. Mrs. Weasley was the first to hug Draco after opening the presents and Mr Weasley awkwardly thanked him with a pat on the back. Draco beamed like a little school boy. 

As Mrs. Weasley rolled out the desserts — cinnamon rolls which Draco had never tried before, Mrs. Weasley probed him to talk. “So, Harry, Ginny and Hermione have talked about you before and how you’re an incredibly talented and intelligent wizard these days.” 

“That’s not exactly what we said, Mrs. Weasley-” Harry interrupted, trying to dislodge a biscuit from his windpipe.

“Mom,” Ginny nudged her with Mrs. Weasley with her elbow but she continued to speak to Draco, unfazed. “It’s just I can’t help but wonder about you being here together at Christmas and all, if you and Hermione are dating?”

Hermione choked on the pretzel in her mouth. “No,” Hermione replied defensively. “We’re _definitely_ not dating.” Hermione tried to avoid this subject at all costs. George was whistling in the background while Ron had gagged. 

Draco’s cinnamon rolls felt squelchy in his mouth. His eyes sauntered to her face. He swallowed his food and bit his bottom lip.

Brunch rolled into dinner and soon it was time for Mr and Mrs Weasley to head to bed and for her to head back to her apartment. Hermione held onto dear life to Draco’s arms and within seconds her feet touched the ground.

“We could have Floo’d back,” Hermione protested, still holding onto Draco as she opened her eyes. 

“Yeah, but what fun would that be.” 

“You’re such a show off,” 

“And water is wet.” 

When Hermione placed her bag on the floor, Draco began conversing. “So, about what you were asked of asked back there,” he said. “I’m a little shocked at your answer,”

“Hm?” Hermione hummed as Hermione took her shoes off and stretched her arms, yawning. He raised one of his eyebrows, questioning the truth of herstatehernt. “Why are you looking at me like that — it’s the truth,” 

“Oh?” He asked her playfully, his eyes gazing at herb ody up and down. One of his hands then roughly reached for her chin and he forced her to look into his blue eyes — the same eyes Hermione couldn’t resist that night at Hogwarts before term break. “ _Liar.”_ He uttered, smirking.

Hermione felt her heart palpitating rapidly — practically thumping against the ribcage as he smoothly placed his arm on the hem of herskirt and tugged her closer to his chest.

Hermione pushed him off with whatever willpower Hermione had left. “You’re  _ crazy _ .” 

“What, you get to kiss me and I don’t? Kind of unfair if you ask me." He huffed. 

“Jesus christ, Draco keep it in your pants I still haven’t decided if we’re dating.” Hermione retorted. 

“And yet Weasley's parents seem to love having me around,” 

“That’s partly because you spoil them with gifts.” 

Draco and Hermione loved desserts, so it wasn't much of a surprise when Hermione offered him some of the leftover cookies and apple crumble pie Hermione had made days before, stacked neatly atop of one another in rectangular shaped containers in her refrigerator.

They laughed and sang along to stupid so as they sipped the red wine Hermione kept in her cupboard for special occasions. Next thing Hermione knew, she was sprawled all over the couch and Draco was tipsy on the fluffy carpet beneath her. 

The music from the television halted as Hermione turned off the television. Hermione looked at her wrist: 4 a.m. Draco hadn’t gone home yet.

“Hey,” Hermione called him, shaking his shoulder frantically. “you need to go home.” 

Draco’s words slurred, something along the lines of being too tired to Floo back even though it would take mere seconds. Hermione sighed and sank to the floor where he was.

Hermione took one of the cushions from the couch and put it under his head so he would be more comfortable. Hermione thought to myself, if he hadn’t been such an ass in his early years, he probably would have more friends by now. 

He looked so peaceful —  _ so serene _ . Hermione hadn’t seen him like this in a long time. There was a silly smile plastered across his face and he exhaled steady breaths throughout the night. 

Hermione reached out with her fingers; they danced in the strands of his hair. She was examining how light his complexion was when contrasted with her tan skin. The blonde strands, almost white cascading down his face beautifully like a beautifully rehearsed scene.  His hair was soft; as soft as feathers. It was funny considering how he always bragged about how never put in effort anymore in his appearance yet he always so refined. 

That feels nice,” 

Hermione instantly pulled her hand away, having forgotten the possibility that he could have been  _ awake _ the whole time Hermione had been admiring his features. Hermione cleared her throat.

“Sorry,” Hermione muttered, the words sounded nervous escaping her lips; Hermione was shaken by how much he affected her. 

“Please — don’t be,” He gently grabbed her wrist and placed it back to his head, his eyes are wide now, full of encouragement and anticipation. “I love how that feels. You’re always so gentle with me,"

Hermione softened immediately at his words. Draco couldn’t remember the last time he had been touched like this. It wasn’t sensual, no, not at all. It was pure, adoring, affection. It was innocent — it was —

He didn’t dare himself to finish that sentence. 

“Can you come lie with me? Just for a little while.” He was yearning to be close to someone, to expose his vulnerabilities without saying anything — to be  _ soft _ . He had missed being cared for for so _ long. _

He stretched out his arm and Hermione smiled, nodding at his invitation. Hermione laid her head where he asked, and he pulled her close to his chest, putting his leg above mine and laughed. A genuine laugh, an adoring laugh — one that made him sound so blissful. 

“Do you think we could stay like this?” He said, words muffled in her hair. Hermione took in the smell of peppermint and oak. “You feel so nice in my arms,” 

“Sure, whatever you want.” Hermione assured. Draco had probably not been assured by anyone in a long time.

The night dissipated into morning.

\----

“Fuck, fuck  _ fuck.”  _ Were the first words Hermione was greeted with at 9 in the morning. Draco had cursed immediately upon waking up, shivering from the cold, having not been covered in the blanket Hermione clumsily threw over the both of us last night. Hermione had been tugging selfishly on the little duvet the whole night, leaving him freezing. 

He scrambled to get her off of his body but Hermione was too heavy and too immersed in his embrace. He was frantically searching around for something, ruffling his hand through her hair as Hermione continued to tug him back. 

“What — what’s wrong babe?” Hermione said groggily. 

“ _ Babe?” _ Draco asked, his eyes widening. Hermione didn’t know what Hermione had just said. Hermione was too sleepy to process the words Hermione was speaking. All Hermione knew was that Hermione wanted to be in his arms again; feel the warmth of his chest against her own. 

“Come back to bed,” Hermione sighed and plopped herself on his chest. 

“We’re on the floor.” Draco said in frustration. “Hermione — Hermione, I need to go to the bathroom.” Draco was licking his lips nervously, he was fidgeting, covering his mouth and trying his best to get out of this situation.

“Jesus Christ, Draco why are you acting up so early in the morning,” 

He stopped fidgeting. However, in Draco’s head he tried to suppress all the dirty and thoughts he had about the both of us being so intimate with each other the night before.

Hermione rested her head in his chest, intending to wrap her arms around his waist. 

Her hands landed flimsily on the zipper of his trousers — it dawned upon her in two seconds flat that he was  _ hard _ . 

“Oh my god,” The words spluttered out of her mouth incoherently. Draco stood up in an instant and sprinted to the bathroom. Once he was inside, he leaned against the door and panted. 

After Hermione heard the sound of the tap close, Draco emerged from the other side of the door, his face red and burning. 

“Sorry —“ 

“It’s okay.” Hermione waved her hands, clearly trying to avoid talking about what happened. 

  
There was an awkward pause before Hermione tried to break the ice.   
  


“So — do you usually get a hard on every morning?” It was a silly question; definitely something too intimate to be asking anyone. She was embarrassed and so was he but she didn't know what else to say. Maybe she should have asked about the weather. She put her palm on her forehead. She was beginning to get drowsy.

Draco absolutely abhorred the fact that Hermione was so painstakingly honest. Hermione was always straight to the point; point blank. It made him choke on the instant coffee that Hermione had served him

Hermione smirked but tried to keep it under wraps, taking a sip from her own brewed coffee. 

“It’s unfortunate but yes,” he choked out, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that by the way. Can’t really control how my body works sometimes.” 

Hermione giggled but tried to stifle it. Draco’s face was absolutely flushed. He couldn’t find the right words to say. “You’re going to hold this against me for a long time, aren’t you?” 

“Oh you have no idea,” Hermione retorted, sticking her tongue out. Hermione took a few steps closer to him and crawled into his lap just to gauge his reaction. He set his mug down and stuttered. “What - _what are you doing?”_

“Gaging a reaction,” 

“Fuck off,” he laughed but softened at her touch as Hermione ran her hands through his hair. “We’re not dating yet. This is so unfair.” 

“I know,” Hermione replied. Hermione loved being in control, making Draco shy and red in the face. He has had his fair share of making ladies squirm at his touch. Hermione figured a little payback was only fair to grant those other women who required reparations for his endless flirtation. 

“So,” Draco’s words sauntered in the air as his hands rubbed up and down her bare thighs. Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine as the silver on his rings grazed her skin. “Is this your way of saying yes to me asking you out?” His eyes were looking directly into mine, searching for an answer. He bit his lip. “Don’t go on giving her mixed signals,  _ babe.” _

Hermione kissed him square in the lips and placed her hands gently on the nape of his neck. He deepened the kiss, placing his hand on her waist, her knees inched deeper into the sofa. “Fuck yes,”

“I want to taste you y'know?” he didn’t know what made him say those words. "I have been waiting for the longest time," Maybe it was the fact that she looked beautiful - or the fact that she felt the same way about him too. He gracefully closed the gap between them, tracing the corner of her lips with his thumb. She licked her lips. “Why don’t you?” 

Draco wanted to pull away in fear of taking things too far. Hermione decides she’s had enough of their little games - she was tired of their endless flirting, making excuses to go for them to head to the library. She was quite frankly exhausted of them tip-toeing with one another about their feelings when they could be something more. That’s what drove her to grab him by slender hands to touch her tits. 

He pulled away almost immediately and Hermione was afraid that she would regret what she was doing when the morning arrived. But when Draco says. “Are you sure? Because I want this so bad, Hermione.” she immediately shut up and nipped at his bottom lip. 

Draco couldn’t have anticipated this. However, he couldn’t help but tease her when he said. “Isn’t this a little too fast, Granger? You haven’t even taken me out to dinner.”

“I’m dinner,” she hastily retorted. “Unless, of course you’re hungry for something else.” 

“Don’t even get me started,” He smirked before he peppered kisses on the side of her neck. His hands reached for her waist as he slowly traced his fingers down her torso. Hermione tugged on the collar of his coat and practically threw it off of him. She then worked on removing his belt She huffed when it dawned upon her that he had secured it rather well t and she couldn’t for the life of her, focus to untangle the knot. 

He laughed at her anticipation and stopped his movements. “Care to lead me to your bedroom? I’d feel more comfortable undressing myself there,” 

She gathered her composure before tugging Draco’s hand in anticipation as she rushed him to the personal confines of her bedroom. She turned on the nightlamp, shut the door behind her and leaned against it. 

Draco pushed her against the door, the knot in his stomach beginning to form. With his forehead leaning against her, feeling her breath against his neck, he noticed his erection beginning to form in his trousers. He didn’t want to rush this. When he found the knot in her pyjama pants and the zipper on her pyjama shirt (These are fucking ridiculous, by the way, he commented.) , he locked eyes with her saying, “Can I take this off?” 

“Yes,” she nodded and within seconds her clothes was pooling at her feet. Draco traced his fingers on her stomach; his hands went higher and higher. Draco noticed that her lingerie weren’t matching and chuckled under his breath. He palmed her right breast through her cotton bra with his right hand while his left firmly gripped the waistband of her panties. 

“Draco,” she sighed in satisfaction. “Could you,” she motioned his lips to her breast. “Put your lips here?” 

"Fucking hell, you want me to suck on your breast?" She nodded, her eyes full of lust and yearning. Hastily, Draco unhooked her bra with his shaking fingers and placed his lips on her bare nipple. He nipped, licked and sucked on her breast while his other hand palmed the other breast, earning a groan from Hermione.

"How's that baby?" He said, switching his mouth from one breast to another. 

“Fuck, you're good at this.” Hermione cussed under her breath. She ran her hands through his blonde hair, tugging it to pull him closer. “You seem to have experience.”

"I've wanted to taste you for so long," Draco palmed the breast that he wasn't sucking. His lips moved from her breast to her neck and kissed her roughly on her lips. He dipped his tongue inside and Hermione stroked him through his trousers. 

He continued this for a good ten minutes. Hearing her gasp and moan under his touch was driving him off the edge. It was hot doing it against the door, he thought but he wanted to ensure that she was as comfortable as possible. 

He grabbed her wrist and ushered her to the bed. “Lie down, Hermione.” he uttered. “Fuck, you look so hot right now,” he couldn’t help say. 

"Get on your back," Hermione commanded. She switched their positions. Draco was absolutely worried at the level of command she had when they were having sex. It made her so impossibly attractive. It made him like her a little more than he already did. She was a dangerous woman and she was going to be the death of him. 

He kissed her again, using his tongue to furiously lick her bottom lip as he slowly inched down to her level on the bed. He steadied himself with his arms before tracing his fingers on her her face. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the bulging erection in his trousers. “Take your shirt off,” she heaved, and he caved. 

They were grinding against each other through their clothes, occasionally ceasing their movements when he looked up to ask her if it was alright if they continued. She nodded and proceeded to kiss him senseless. Hermione’s panties were drenched and Draco could tell from the warmth he felt between his legs.

“Are we really doing this?” Draco asked again, still hesitant to proceed. “Having sex?” 

“Why?,” she asked sitting up before dragging his pants off and discarding them on the floor. She ran her hands through her hair before grabbing one of his hands to touch her between her legs. “Do you not want to?” 

“I want to,” Draco replied almost instantly. He discarded her underwear, panting and heaving. The air in the room drenched of sex and arousal. "Can i - can i taste you?" 

Hermione whimpered. She nodded her head enthusiastically. "Should I lean back?" Hermione was about to get off and lie back down. 

Draco held her by her arms and made her hold her bedframe. He smirked before parting her legs. He slit his tongue in, tasting, searching, learning about how she loved to be pleased by him. Experimenting; tongue going between her folds, licking her clit in a slow, sensual motion - moaning in her mouth. She tasted salty and sweet; She tasted like his bliss point. 

"Fuck, fuck," She panted rolling her hips against his tongue. She was touching one of her breasts to try and relieve herself. Draco was so amused because he found it so sexy that when Hermione Granger was pleasured by his tongue, she cursed just as much as he did. 

"You're such a good girl," Draco murmured as he continued to lick her clit. Hermione bit her lip so hard she was worried it was going to bleed. He had ruined her for any other man. "My," he sucked on her clit. She tried to stop herself from thrashing. 'Good," he dipped his tongue in her. "Girl," 

He chuckled as she began to make the loudest and delicious sounds he had ever heard. He used one of his hands to relieve the pressure he was experiencing. "I know you like it when I talk like that, Hermione." She was grinding against his face; her fingers clenching tightly on the headboard. Hermione was so close - so utterly close to experiencing the most mind blowing orgasm of her life when he stopped flicking his tongue against her. 

Draco pulled back and placed her on him, so that she could feel his erection on her thigh as she bracketed his hips. She looked so beautiful, Draco thought. Her hair in disarray, her cheeks with the faintest tint of blush and her lips, bruised and swollen. 

"Can we come together, baby? At least for the first time?" He looked so earnest, nothing like the men Hermione had ever had sex with. He gently cupped her face, brushing the loose strands of hair away from her face. She kissed him with fervour, tasting herself in his mouth. 

"I told you to get on your back, Draco." she placed her hands on his hips as Draco looked at her with a look of confusion. "I should've gotten a first taste." 

She pulled down his pants and his underwear. He was so swollen and hard. She touched him and he flinched, a little sensitive with against her warm hands. She licked his cock with the tip of her tongue. He cursed under his breath. 

"Are you going to put me in your mouth?" Draco asked, panting heavily. His eyes were closed and his head was against one of her pillows. She let out a low laugh; he was always talkative when he was a little nervous. "Because I know some girls don't like that and I don't want you to feel obligated --" 

She enveloped his cock with her warm mouth; hot and ready for him. 

Draco _whimpered._

Instinctively he put his hands on the crown of her head. He gently massaged her scalp, not wanting to force her to talk him down any lower in her throat. She licked his shaft in an upwards motion as he stared at her in awe. His mouth was ajar. He refused to close his eyes to savour the moment. She looked so beautiful with her mouth on his cock like that. 

"Are you enjoying this?" Draco muttered in between pants. "God - _god_ \- I really hope you like this because I _do_ , Hermione - I like tasting you." 

She lifted her head from his cock; her saliva pooling slightly underneath her chin. "I'll make you feel better if you tell me how much you're enjoying this." 

"Fuck," Draco hit his head thunderously loud against the sheets. 

Hermione waited and waited as praises escaped his lips. Things alone the lines of "I used to imagine your mouth on my cock - it was so wrong." She sometimes paused when he felt guilty about objectifying her but reassured him that it was okay when she sucked him off harder. He would groan and toss and turn and she would have to hold him still. She would encourage him, asking him to tell her more about his fantasies. 

"I wanted to taste you at Hogwarts Library. I wanted you to taste me in my room when I did well for my exams. I wanted to call you a good girl for as long as I've wanted to call you mine." He sighed in bliss. He was at the back of her throat now. "Fuck, I can't believe you're mine." 

Draco was shallowly thrusting into her mouth. She wanted to taste his come. 

He stopped her.

"You're crying- please, stop." He said as he lifted her chin from his cock and tasted her. Men would usually just push their cocks deeper in her throat. But Draco was enthusiastic about not wanting her to feel any sort of discomfort. He hadn't even said that he was close. he wasn't planning on finishing in her mouth. 

They were in a sitting position when he tasted her breasts as she stroked his sensitive and stimulated cock. "Let's have sex, hm?" He said as his hands traced patterns across her spine. 

"Lay on your back then." Hermione said pushing him down by placing her hands on his chest. He placed his head on the pillows once more, loving it when she took control. He loved that about her; her bossy attitude. It was sexy and commanding. 

Hermione took his shaft between her hands and directed it to herself. She wandlessly cast a contraceptive charm. Draco looked utterly impressed. But then again, when did she ever stop being so brilliant and calculative?

She sank on top of him and the both of them let out a pleasured sigh. Draco thought her cunt felt like heaven. 

"Are you -" Draco asked. "Okay?' Hermione could tell he couldn't string his sentences together. "You're a little - _ah_ \- tight." 

"It's been so long since I've had sex," Hermione confessed, her tits bouncing. Draco sucked on her one of her nipples and she bent forward, giving him more access. "I'm not going to last long," Hermione said. "you over-stimulated me," 

"I could say the same for you, baby." Hermione liked that he was calling her baby. He was so affectionate in bed. 

They moved together at a glacial pace. Hermione taking a few seconds as she slipped out of him and sank back on top of him again. The both of them couldn't open their eyes together at the same time; just experiencing a slice of heaven every time he slipped inside of her again. 

He thrusted against her harshly and she moaned so loud she was a little embarrased. She laughed. "I didn't realise I was so loud," Hermione uttered in between his thrusts. 

_"Fuck,_ " Draco thrusted harshly. "You're so perfect Hermione."

Hermione didn't know how to articulate how pleasured she felt. He was continously asking her if things were okay; always prioritising her sexual needs over his own. Praising her, telling her how beautiful she was. _Oh,_ and the way he sucked on her breasts, like they were the sweetest things he had ever tasted. 

" _Fuck_ ," Draco cursed for the umpteenth time that night. "Are you going to come baby - I'm so _close,_ " 

"Touch my clit," Hermione said as Draco hurriedly furiously stimulated Hermione's clitoris. He decided that that wasn't enough and sucked on her breasts harder, hastily moving his tongue in circles. Hermione felt like she was about to burst. 

" _Fuck, fuck -_ I'm coming Draco." 

Draco was sucking furiously on her breasts as he pounded into her again and again and again, searching for his own release. When Hermione came, her cunt clenched Draco tightly. 

" _Shit_ \- Hermione, do you need me to pull out? I can pull out right now," 

"Stay," she said. " _Stay_ \- come inside of me." She whined, over and over. I want to feel you."

"Fuck, you're the closest i ever felt to feeling like I'm at home, baby." He thrusted until he could see white spots in the corner of his eyes. "Fuck - yes, _yes;_ Hermione yes, don't stop." 

They climaxed together at the same time. Draco's come spurting into her warm velvety cunt. She laid on top of him for a minute. He didn't want to pull away. 

Draco couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. It’s not that he was embarrassed - rather he was happy that they hadnt rushed the relationship. He quirked an eyebrow at Hermione, hand still on her waist. “I still think we should have had dinner first." 

Draco's stomach grumbled. "You may be dinner for my sexual urges but my stomach is upset with me." 

Hermione had never laughed so hard in her life. 

\----

After Christmas break, Hermione was all kinds of sore. It wasn't really his Draco's fault; most of it was due to studying, revision and running. 

Well, perhaps after they've gotten together, she was doing less running and opted for another form of exercise instead. Apparently, it burned more than 100 calories per session. 

“Your tie is loose,” Pansy observed, one of her eyebrows cocked to one side. Hermione was back at Hogwarts post-Christmas break, late for the first class of the day. Hermione was hastily brewing a cheese based potion Slughorn had instructed the class to make that day, her eyes fixated on the cauldron in front of her. “Oh,” Hermione uttered in realisation after putting her wand down after mixing the potion. “Thanks, Pansy,” Hermione replied nonchalantly. 

In two seconds flat, Draco rushed into the classroom, his hair and clothes were in disarray. He was yawning. He muttered a few apologies to our Professor before acquiring a seat a table away from where Pansy and Hermione were. 

“Draco’s late,” pansy uttered, the tone in her voice growing suspicious. “You arrived about the same time,” 

Hermione swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “No, I arrived earlier.” She said confidently. 

“To avoid suspicion— wait,” everything seemed to click. “Your _neck.”_ She pointed out, her right hand covering her mouth as the scandalous bruise on her neck revealed the entire story of what had happened behind a tapestry next to their potion’s classroom.

"We've decided." Draco said triumphantly, placing his books on the table. 

"You mean you've fucked," Pansy said, blinking. 

"Same thing." Draco finished. 


End file.
